When the Siren Wails
by TheSignsOfDeduction
Summary: Faced with a tough decision, Simon must choose between Kieran and his beliefs.
1. Chapter 1 : When the Siren Wails

Simon feels the dagger handles in his hand carefully, cold, steely eyes - even for an undead - scanning every single one of them. Would this have been his weapon of choice? When would Amy find out? Would this even work? He conjured up as many questions as he could in order to avoid one that he couldn't face.

_What would Kieran think?_

He thought about the Undead Prophet, and suddenly the image of Kieran was muffled. He opened his eyes with a newfound determination and he picked a blade, the most uncomplicated one, the most elegant one and he slid it into the pocket of his blazer.

He walked out of the room purposefully, thinking only about the importance of his duty, his responsibility and what this would mean in the grand scheme of things. Too many had died for this cause already, what was one more?

"Simon," Zoe started.

"Yeah?" Simon prompted nonchalantly.

"When the dead rise today, what will they be like?" She asked with a innocence in her voice and genuine curiosity in her eyes.

Simon reminded himself that this was what - no, who - he was doing this for, his own kind. He kept this close to his heart and he suddenly decided that he was doing the moral thing. He took a step closer to Zoe.

"The second rising will be," He stopped as he didn't know. He didn't know what would happen, or if it would even happen. But he did remember what the Undead Prophet had said, what the Bible had said. _The dead shall rise; incorruptible. And we shall be changed._

"Well they're gonna change things. They're going to put an end to the suffering and persecution. After the second rising, we ain't gonna be treated like that anymore." He wasn't sure what he said after the first sentence was accurate, but it's what the Undead Prophet said.

"Can we help you do it?" Zoe asked.

Even when it came to killing, Simon couldn't bear to let anyone else do it. In a strange, unfathomable way, he wanted Kieran's last seconds to be with him, no matter that he was the one to be forcing those last seconds on Kieran.

"I gotta do this alone."

"Well, what should we do?" She asked once more.

"Prepare." Simon said. He often said things so vague that people could not fault him or it or prove him wrong. It was one of the conversion techniques he used. So he left the bungalow to walk to Kieran's house, leaving a group of dumbfounded Partially Deceased Syndrome sufferers to figure out what he meant.

If his heart worked, it would have been beating out of his chest. But just because he didn't have a beating heart to prove it doesn't mean he was any less nervous. His eyebrows were buried in a deep furrow and his lips were pressed tightly. He thought of only the way he would do it. He turned and with a heavy heart he looked up to the street.

It was Gary's truck.

His face filled with surprise as this was completely unprecedented. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, figuring out his best course of action. He thought first about whether he could take on Gary, whether he could beat someone whose job description was basically killing the Undead. He decided that at least, if he couldn't kill Gary, he wouldn't have to kill Kieran. He thought about what if he could kill Gary. Then at least he'd be balanced morally right? The killing of an evil to match in renown the killing of an innocent? He'd still have to kill his boyfriend, but at least he could live with himself a little bit better.

He thought that maybe Gary's presence wasn't so bad after all.

He continued, taking long strides, pulling the knife out of his blazer and clutching the handle tightly. He quietly slipped into the open door that Gary had not closed. He could hear the sounds of the two upstairs.

"You know he's planning an attack don't ya?" Gary said forcefully.

There was a slight pause.

"No," Kieran admitted.

"He fucking is. Today." Gary replied.

He told himself he could no longer stop to think about this. He'd been thinking enough. With his mind blank and weapon ready, he went up the stairs.

"I'm gonna ask you for the last time. Where's the Irish rotter?" Gary said as he glared menacingly into Kieran's eyes.

"I'm here." Simon announced with the hand holding the dagger behind his back. He stormed towards Gary and Gary turned to him, eyes bewildered and scared. The second Gary had turned to face him, Simon sank the blade deep into Gary's heart, pulling it out straight after.

"What the _fuck_?" Kieran demanded, his hands still tied behind his back.

Simon turned to Kieran, who obviously thought that he was not in danger of Simon, unlike Gary. But Kieran hadn't yet seen the cold fire that had made Simon's eyes its home. Kieran hadn't yet seen the dagger still firmly in Simon's right hand. He hadn't yet realised that he was next. That is, until he saw the dagger swiftly coming straight for his head. And suddenly, there was nothing for Kieran to realise anymore.

Simon pulled the dagger out and dropped it. For the first time since he knew he had to kill Kieran, he allowed himself to feel it. And it hurt a lot.

He dropped to his knees and looked around, waiting for the tears that would not come. His vision was crystal clear and there would be nothing to obscure it. He looked up to face what he'd done and he wished... he wished... He wished that it'd had been him to die, so he wouldn't be able to bear it. He buried his face in his hands on Kieran's bed, two people dead lying around him.

"I love you."


	2. Chapter 2 : Go Gentle Into the Night

It was done. It was done and it was over, and nothing he can do could change that.

That's what he told himself whenever he started thinking about it, at least.

He ran through the lie he would tell Amy once he saw her, because he knew that she wouldn't ever be able to get over the death of her Best Dead Friend Forever. He'd say that he ran into the house when he saw Gary's truck parked outside Kieran's house and was too late, for Gary had already killed Kieran. Being vengeful and lost in his sadness- no, _devastation,_-he killed Gary. That'd work, right?

He started thinking, also, about who the second rising would bring back. He wasn't sure if he wanted Kieran back, actually. Not after what he'd done.

He sighed as he made his way to the graveyard and told himself that he'd at least have a little more time to perfect his lie to Amy, given her presence at the village fete. He approached, and he saw most of the Undead in Roarton chanting "Rise" repeatedly in front of various graves. He felt a certain sense of pride that he had made the lives of them better, and even more when he thought about him being the one to have sparked the second rising.

The following that he had gathered over the past few months flocked to him, eagerly awaiting news.

"Is it done, Simon?" One of them asked. Simon knew that he had referred to it as 'it' only because they did not know what he had to do.

"It is done. Prepare, for the dead will rise soon." Simon announced confidently, half-smiling.

Smiles and grins manifested themselves on every one of their faces and they looked at each other excitedly. Then, they heard the sound of a march in the distance.

"The march." Zoe spat the words out, as if the very presence of the march was an invasion on a moment like this. The anger welled up in her eyes, but Simon put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry."

Simon calmly and resolutely walked up to the marches, who had since grown displeased, perhaps because about twenty Partially Diseased Syndrome sufferers without cover up had interrupted their untainted march with their presence.

"What's this?" Someone called out loudly in the back above the crowd.

In fact, they had gotten so rowdy and uncontrollable that Jemina Walker had to turn to them and yell, "_I've got this._"

"What's the problem here?" Simon asked Jem politely, eyes darting pointedly to the crowd.

"We want you to move." Jem said, a bit forcefully. She had a duty as the leader of this march, and that was to see that it went uninterrupted.

Simon intertwined his fingers and looked directly at her.

"Normally, we wouldn't have a problem with that, but you see," He paused to look at the other PDS sufferers, "Today's an important day."

"It's an important day for us too!" Jem replied with more force. This earned a few Yeah's from the crowd.

Simon nodded his head understandingly. "Would you consider skipping one location? It wouldn't be too much trouble, we won't bother you."

Jem looked to the crowd, then back at him and heaved a sigh. "Okay." She said resignedly.

"We're going around here!" Jem announced to the other marchers.

"You're letting them win?" A marcher asked in disbelief.

"I'm reaching a compromise."

Simon turned back to the group of Undead and smiled slightly.

"Any time now." Zoe confirmed excitedly as they started to chant "Rise" again.

"I'm gonna go to the village fete. I need to find Amy." Simon said briefly before walking off.

"Where d'ya think you're going?" A lady asked him, "Where's your ticket?"

He turned to her and looked at the tiny pile of tickets on the table. There were many times more people than tickets, and he knew instantly that he was stopped because he was PDS. "I was not aware."

"If you don't have a ticket, _leave_." She said the last word like an order.

Simon looked around the room, and he couldn't spot Amy. He ignored the lady and left.

He didn't know where to go next. He couldn't look for Amy, for he didn't know where she was. He couldn't go back to the graveyard, because he couldn't stand the thought of the possibility of the rising not happening. Besides, the wait would be excruciating. Instead, he found himself going to the one place where he had first noticed Kieran. Like, really noticed him.

The hospital.

As he sat alone in the waiting area, staring at the empty PDS cage and the 'Receptionist For Hire' notice next to the 'Ring bell for assistance' sign and the places where Kieran and him were together at. It was the first time he'd been convinced to do something he didn't want to, and that, though annoying, made him realize that he liked Kieran. He remembered how Kieran was unwavering in his righteousness, his own personal set of moral values. He remembered how Kieran's lips tasted. He remembered how alive and human and vulnerable Kieran made him feel. He remembered he took that away from himself.

"Help! Someone help!" A strained and desperate voice called.

Simon leapt to his feet and opened the front doors of the hospital only to be greeted with the sight of a sweat-covered Philip and a limp Amy in his arms. Philip screamed and Simon shouted for the doctor. Simon took Amy in his arms to relieve Philip and they ran into the Dr. Russo's room.

The doctor was baffled, as was Simon.

"How did this happen?" He asked, his mouth slightly opened and frown present.

"We were at the graveyard and- and Ms. Martin comes up to us and says something about Amy being the first and the last.." Philip struggled for words, devastated and confused.

"She's bleeding," the doctor whispered, a hint of shock in his voice.

"Well you've got to do something!" Philip said to the doctor as the doctor got up.

"I don't understand!"

Doctor Russo returned with a towel and started giving Amy cardiopulmonary resuscitations by giving her chest compressions. Unfortunately, this was to no avail.

"She's lost too much blood.." Dr. Russo quickly checks her eyes and his theory is confirmed. "Her pupils have changed.." He stands up, defeated.

"What are you doing?" Simon asks angrily.

He looks up to both Simon and Philip, and his eyes find Philip, whose lips are quivering and eyes are in defiant disbelief. He looks straight into Philip's eyes.

"She's gone."

"No," Philip protests, "No she's not."

He is on the brink of falling apart, and his lips are a testament to that. He looks around, at Dr. Russo, at Simon, who both keep quiet. Philip feels the onslaught of tears as the truth starts seeping in against his will, and he brings his hands up to his head in a futile attempt to block reality out. The room is now painfully quiet, except for Philip's sobbing. Simon stands, unmoving, staring at a lifeless Amy. His face betrays him; it does not show his pain – pain, of losing both a lover and a close friend in one day. Simon cannot bear it anymore, he walks out and back to the bungalow, and he throws himself into blankets and pillows, hoping that when he wakes up next, everything will have been a bad dream.

But since when was it ever so simple?


End file.
